


Tornado

by WeirdyMcWeirderton



Category: Supernatural
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-29
Updated: 2014-06-29
Packaged: 2018-02-06 18:09:36
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 4,829
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1867482
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WeirdyMcWeirderton/pseuds/WeirdyMcWeirderton
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Set in the beginning of Season 2. The Winchester brothers come across a hunt where people in a church's congregation are found dead. It's supposed to be a pretty simple hunt but both boys are still reeling from their dad's death, their relationship strained. Will Dean be able to overcome his grief and realize his brother is still alive and needs him before it's too late?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> All right, this story came to me in a dream…This seems to happen to me a lot (I have another one I need to write that was a dream as well)…lol. But it’s been bothering me so I’m writing it. It’ll be shorter, only about three chapters. Anyways, hope ya’ll like it!  
> DISCLAIMER: I own nothing of Supernatural.

Sam flips the newspaper page over and reads some more. Dean’s sitting on one of the beds, cleaning his guns. Sam’s eyebrows furrow as he reads the page in front of him.  
“I think I found us a hunt,” Sam says, still looking at the newspaper.  
“Yeah?” Dean asks, not taking his attention from his own task.  
“Yeah. Get this. This town has had twice as many deaths as normal in the past year,” Sam says.  
“Not sure that’s really our thing Sam,” Dean replies.  
“It’s not gonna hurt us to check it out Dean. We’re not doing anything now anyways,” Sam argues.  
“Fine. We’ll check it out. But it’ll probly be a waste of our time,” Dean admonishes. 

WWWDWWWDWWWDWWWD

Dean and Sam climb out of the Impala and walk inside the coroner’s office. A young woman is sitting at the desk and looks up as they enter. She takes in their appearance and gives Dean a flirty smile.  
“How can I help you?” she asks, eyeing Dean.  
“Agents Diesel and Johnson. We’re here to talk to Dr. Grant about the recent deaths,” Dean replies, holding up his fake FBI badge. Sam notices the lack of flirting on his brothers’ end. He wasn’t surprised; Dean hadn’t been himself since their dad died. Truth was, no matter how much Sam complained about Dean’s behavior, he missed having the old Dean around. Since their dad died, their relationship had been strained and Dean acted like he didn’t even want to be around Sam anymore. And when he was around him, he was biting his head off, or just ignoring him.  
“Is he expecting you?” the woman asks, all but pouting at the lack of response from Dean.  
“Yes. Agent Johnson called earlier,” Dean replies. The woman nods her head and calls the doctor, letting him know they were there. Once done, she hangs up the phone and looks over at Dean and Sam.  
“You can go on in,” the woman says, pointing at a door.  
“Thank you,” Sam says, following his brother through the door.  
A man in his fifties with greying hair and glasses stands in the room Dean and Sam enter. He looks up as he hears the brothers walk into the room. He finishes washing his hands and turns the water off.  
“Dr. Grant?” Sam asks. The man nods his head and wipes his water wet hands on a towel.   
“You must be the FBI Agents I talked to earlier,” Dr. Grant says, holding out a hand.  
“Yes, I’m Agent Johnson,” Sam says, shaking the man’s hand. “And this is Agent Diesel.”  
Dean shakes the doctors’ hand and the two hunters follow Dr. Grant to a body on one of the slabs.   
“This is the most recent victim,” Dr. Grant says.  
“What did you find out Doc?” Dean asks, earning an eye roll from Sam.  
“Well, if I didn’t know any better I’d say their life was drained out of them,” Grant says.  
“What do you mean?” Dean asks.  
“It was almost like they slowly wasted away,” the doctor answers. “I checked all of the victims’ medical records and none of them had illnesses that would do this. I even checked for drugs in their systems, and besides minor pain killers in some of them, there was nothing.”  
“And all of the victims died like this?” Sam asks.  
“Yes,” answers the doctor.  
“How many victims have there been?” Sam asks.  
“Including this one? Thirty in the past year,” the doctor says. Dean’s and Sam’s heads shoot over to the doctor.  
“Thirty?” they ask in unison.  
“Yes,” Dr. Grant says grimly, thinking the two agents must have been partners for a long time to be speaking in unison.  
“Um, can we get a copy of the files for all of them?” Sam asks.  
“Of course,” Dr. Grant says, leading the hunters out the door.

WWWDWWWDWWWD

“I’m not finding any connection here,” Sam says, closing another file.  
“There’s got to be a connection,” Dean says, looking at a file himself.  
“Dean, they’re all different ages, look different, live in different parts of town…” Sam begins to rant.  
“Well, then, maybe the connections not in the files,” Dean says, closing his file. “Maybe they all visited the same place or it’s in their past.”  
“Which means we have to go talk to the victims’ families,” Sam says.  
“First, I need to eat,” Dean says, standing up and grabbing his coat and keys.

WWWDWWWDWWWD

“So, Mrs. Daniels,” Sam says. “Did your husband act weird at all before his death?”  
“What do you mean weird?” Mrs. Daniels asks. Dean rolls his eyes. It’s pretty obvious what weird means sweetheart he thinks.  
“Anything out of the ordinary?” Sam clarifies.  
“Besides being really, really tired? No,” Daniels answers.  
“Where did your husband go the day he died?” Dean asks.  
“Nowhere out of the ordinary. Just to church. He goes every Sunday,” Mrs. Daniels replies.  
“And you didn’t go?” Dean asks. Mrs. Daniels hesitates a moment.  
“No…I haven’t gone in a while. Me and God? We’re not on the best of terms right now,” Daniels says, obviously not wanting to go into detail. Sam notices a paper on the end table next to him and picks it up.  
“Is this the church he goes to?” he asks, holding up the newsletter for Blakely Independence Church of God. Mrs. Daniels looks over at it.  
“Yes. It was a fairly new church. Just started up last year. John went with a friend one Sunday and has been going ever since,” Mrs. Daniels answers.  
“Okay, well that should be enough. Thank you Mrs. Daniels,” Sam says. The two Winchesters stand up and let themselves out.  
“What are you thinking?” Dean asks once they get to the car.  
“The church John Daniels attends? The same one the Tastle family attends…attended,” Sam says.  
“You thinking what I’m thinking?” Dean asks.  
“What? That I was right,” Sam says with a smirk.  
“Really Sam? Just get in the damn car,” Dean counters, climbing in himself. Sam sighs, not missing the bite in his brother’s voice. He wishes he could get his brother back; the one that would happily get involved in their brotherly banter and not get angry at him for trying.

WWWDWWWDWWWD

Dean and Sam walk into the Blakely Independence Church of God and look around. A man in his early thirties and brown hair walks into the room and notices them. He’s wearing a black Pastor’s uniform. He walks over to them and gives them a smile.   
“Can I help you?” he asks.  
“Agent Diesel and Johnson,” says Dean as he and Sam show their fake ID badges.   
“Is there something wrong?” the man asks.  
“Are you Pastor Delving?” Sam asks.  
“Yes,” Delving answers.  
“We just have a few questions about some of the people who attend your church,” Sam explains.   
“Of course,” Delving says, nodding his head. “I will help in any way I can. It’s horrible what has happened to them.”  
“Pastor Delving, did you notice anything different about them in the weeks leading up to their deaths?” Sam asks.  
“No, not that I know of. I mean, they were all sick or something. They were getting very tired and the congregation had been praying for them,” Delving answers.  
“All of them were sick with the same thing?” Dean asks, suspecting something off with this.  
“Yes, but it’s not unheard of. We are a very close-knit church and everyone is constantly around everyone else so sickness gets passed around easier than most churches,” the pastor says. Dean nods his head, a voice in his head still telling him something is off about this.   
“Did any of the victims say anything to you that might help us?” Dean asks.  
“Agent, we might not be Catholic and have confessional, but I still have to follow the same code when it comes to that,” Pastor Delving says.  
“We understand,” Sam replies, turning on his full puppy-dog look. “But anything that might seem out of the ordinary could help us figure out whoever is behind this or at least what has happened. You could help us save more peoples’ lives.”  
Pastor Delving hesitates for a moment, debating whether or not he should say anything to the agents. Making up his mind he fixes both agents with a serious look.  
“I’m sorry agents but if, for instance, anyone in my congregation happened to tell me that they had been feeling this way for months and it was gradually getting worse, and that they thought they were being poisoned, I couldn’t tell you,” Pastor Delving says. Dean and Sam nod their heads.  
“Thank you Pastor,” Sam says and the Winchesters each shake the pastors’ hand and exit the church. “So, what do you think?”  
“I think something weird is going on at that church,” Dean answers his brother. “I just don’t know what it is yet.”  
“I guess we need to do a little digging on the church and the pastor then,” Sam says.  
“Great. More research,” Dean says, not sounding enthused at all.


	2. Chapter 2

“Okay, so Pastor Delving just moved here about fourteen months ago. Shortly after, he started the church. Over time the congregation has grown, but more and more deaths have been happening. The first death didn’t occur until about three months after the church opened up,” Sam says, reading of the computer screen. Sam looks over at his brother who is sitting at the computer next to him. They came straight to the library and starting researching on the pastor and the church. Sam looks over at his brother and the computer screen in front of him. His eyes narrow. Or should he say, he’d been researching on the pastor and the church. “So, what’d you find Dean?”  
“What?” Dean asks, looking over at his brother. Seeing Sam looking at him, waiting for him to answer, Dean looks back at his own computer screen, which had been on the same screen for the past half hour. “Uh…same thing you did.”  
“If you weren’t gonna help research Dean, why did you come?” Sam asks.  
“‘Cause I knew you’d throw a bitch fit if I didn’t,” Dean replies, earning a glare from the librarian walking by. Sam sighs. Siren sound outside as an ambulance passes the library. Dean and Sam share a look before they simultaneously shut down their computers and grab their coats, heading to see what’s going on.

WWWDWWWDWWWD

“So, what’d the cops say?” Dean says as his brother walks over to them. They had followed where the ambulance went only to find there was another death the same as the other ones.   
“Just that the next door neighbor stopped by and noticed the door unlocked. When she went to knock on it, she noticed John Summers lying in the chair. She said he looked weird and when she went in and tried to get his attention she realized he was dead. Called the cops and when they showed up, they realized everyone in the house died the same way. And that it looked identical to the previous deaths. My guess is we’re probly dealing with the same thing,” Sam answers.  
“No, really?” Dean asks sarcastically.  
“What’d you find out?” Sam asks with a scowl, trying not to let his brother get to him.  
“All of the bodies look the same as the others. As if their life was just drained right out of them,” Dean says.  
“What could be doing this?” Sam asks.   
“I don’t know. The only time I saw something like this was…” Dean thinks aloud. Sam looks over at him, knowing his brother is thinking the same thing he is.  
“When we hunted that Shtriga?” he asks. Dean nods his head.  
“But they only go after kids so I have no clue what this is,” Dean says.  
“We should call Bobby,” Sam says. Dean nods in agreement and the two of them exit the house. As they walk to the Impala, they notice an old man watching the scene from his porch across the street.   
“Hey,” Dean calls to his brother. Sam looks over and sees the same thing his brother does. The two Winchesters walk across the street and up the porch steps, meeting the older man.  
“You FBI Agents?” the old man asks.   
“Yes sir,” Sam says, showing him his badge. “And you are?”  
“Patrick Livingston,” the old man replies. “They all dead?”  
“Uh…yeah,” Dean answers, sharing a look with his brother. “You wouldn’t by any chance know what happened to them would you?”  
“I have a theory. An old wives tale my old man used to tell me,” Patrick answers.   
“Could you tell us?” Sam asks.   
“Old man said near eighty years ago when he was a teenager, this guy came strolling into town. Talking about God and being saved. Gained a wide following and he opened up a church. Few months later, people in the church started dying, their life drained right outta them. Said it kept going till no one in the church was left. Then, the guy just up and vanished,” Livingston explains. “Didn’t believe him till now.”  
“You know the guy’s name?” Dean asks. Patrick shakes his head, then, thinks about it.  
“Not sure but it might’ve been something like Andrews? Anderson? It was a long time ago,” Patrick says apologetically.  
“It’s okay,” Sam assures. “Oh, uh, where did this happen?”  
“Billings, Tennessee,” Patrick answers.   
“Thank you,” Sam says and he and Dean begin walking back to the Impala. “You think it’s the same thing?”  
“I’d bet on it,” Dean replies.

WWWDWWWDWWWD

“Yahtzee!” Dean exclaims triumphantly. Sam looks over at his brother as he exits the bathroom and grabs his clothes.  
“You find something?” he asks.  
“Just the fact that the ‘wives tale’ Patrick told us is completely true. And that every single person that attended the church died the same way these people are dying,” Dean says.  
“Yeah, but we already knew that from what Patrick said,” Sam points out.  
“But now we know for sure,” Dean says, then says rather smugly, “Oh, and did I mention I have a picture.”  
Sam’s ears perk up and he walks over to the computer and looks at the picture. He reads the caption saying its Pastor Anders standing in front of his newly opened church. He looks at Anders a little more closely and his eyes grow wide.   
“Is that…?”  
“Yep. God fearing Pastor Delving has nothing to fear when he lives forever,” Dean says, looking at the picture of Pastor Anders, or should he say Pastor Delving from almost eighty years ago.  
“So, Shtriga?” Sam asks. “Who goes after everyone not just kids?”  
“I don’t know,” Dean says, thinking. “Why don’t you give Bobby a call.”  
Sam grabs his phone and dials Bobby’s number, putting the phone to his ear. After a couple rings, Bobby’s gruff voice comes over the speaker.  
“What?” he asks.  
“Hey Bobby, its Sam,” Sam answers. “We’re working a job and we need your help.”  
“All right, what you got for me?” Bobby asks.  
“I’m putting you on speaker,” Sam says, hitting the button.  
“Hey Bobby,” Dean says.   
“Dean,” Bobby replies.  
“All right, so we’ve got this guy…” Sam begins.  
“A pastor,” Dean interrupts. Sam gives him a look.  
“So, this guy just opens up a church a little over a year ago and about three months later people in the congregation begin dying. Their lives being drained right out of them. Come to find out, this has happened before eighty years ago,” Sam explains.  
“Okay, I’ll bite. What’s the catch?” Bobby asks.  
“The catch is that the same guy was the pastor at both churches. And he hasn’t aged a year,” Dean cuts in.  
“Okay,” Bobby says, letting the boys know he’s following them.   
“We were thinking Shtriga maybe, but we know they only go after kids,” Dean says.  
“But, a Shtriga’s the best answer out of everything we’ve come up with,” Sam adds. “You ever hear of a Shtriga going after adults as well as kids?”  
“No, not unless the adults are trying to kill them,” Bobby answers. “Tell ya boys what. I’ll look into it, see what I can find.”  
“Thanks Bobby,” Dean says. The hunters hang up the phone and Sam puts it on the table.   
“So, now what?” Sam asks.  
“Now, you get dressed and we get something to eat,” Dean says, noticing Sam is still only in his towel. Before Sam can say anything, Dean has grabbed his jacket and the room key and is heading out the door to the Impala. Sam sighs. Grabbing his clothes again, Sam heads in to the bathroom to quickly get changed before Dean leaves him behind.


	3. Chapter 3

“All right. Thanks Bobby,” Sam says into his phone before hanging it up. Dean looks up from the guns he’s cleaning.  
“What’d Bobby say?” he asks.  
“Said the only thing he could figure is a Shtriga getting desperate and sucking the life out of everyone, not just the kids. It’s the only thing that fits,” Sam answers.  
“Okay. Let’s go pay a visit to Pastor Douchebag,” Dean says, putting a full clip in his gun and placing it in its spot in the back of his jeans. 

WWWDWWWDWWWD

Dean parks the Impala a block away from the church and the two brothers exit the car. They look around and make sure they have all of their weapons. After creeping towards the church, Dean stops his brother.  
“We should split up. Cover more ground,” Dean says.  
“No, Dean, we shouldn’t. That’s a bad idea,” Sam says, remembering the last Shtriga they went against.   
“Stop being such a girl Sam. We’ll be fine. I’ll take the back, you go in the front,” Dean says.  
“No. Dean!” Sam whispers harshly, but it’s no use, Dean’s already around the corner. Sam sighs in frustration and walks quietly up to the front door. Opening it slowly so it doesn’t make a sound, Sam slips inside. Looking around, he doesn’t see anyone in the main room. Sam takes out his gun and begins scouring the other rooms in the front. Coming to a door, he opens it, seeing a set of stairs leading down to the basement. Sam carefully sneaks down the stairs, his gun in front of him, ready to be used if need be. As he comes to the bottom of the stairs, Sam looks around the room, but doesn’t see anything out of the ordinary. He hears a noise off to his right and he walks quietly through an arch into a hallway. He hears someone walking around in one of the rooms at the end of the hall and he moves stealthily along the wall. Coming to the last door on the left, Sam peers in and sees Pastor Delving inside, setting up a table. Sam can’t make out what it is, but by the ingredients he does see, he knows it’s not good.  
“Agent. It’s about time you figured it out,” Delving says, just as Sam gets inside the room. Sam freezes, his eyes wide. How the hell did he know I was here? Suddenly, the door behind him slams shut and Sam goes flying into the wall, smacking his head. Sam falls to the floor, dazed. He looks up in time to see a fist come towards his face before everything goes black.

WWWDWWWDWWWD

 

Dean walks into the main room of the church. Looking around, he doesn’t see anyone or anything out of the ordinary. He decides to check the room out, see if he can find anything not in plain sight. Dean makes his way around the room, finding himself at the podium. Something catches his eye. Making sure he’s still alone, Dean crouches down and pulls a bag out of the shelf in the podium.  
“Son of a Bitch,” he mutters, opening the bag to find ingredients he’d rather not know about inside. “I hate witches.”  
Dean tosses the hex bag back onto the shelf and stands up. He needed to find Sam because dealing with a Shtriga was one thing, but witches? It’d be bad if they knew Delving was a witch, but not knowing was dangerous.  
“Dammit,” Dean curses under his breath. Dean quickly, but quietly, makes his way to the back of the room and finds a door partly opened. Dean looks inside and sees a set of stairs leading down to the basement. 

WWWDWWWDWWWD

Sam wakes up to a pain in his face. He blinks and looks around, seeing Pastor Delving standing in front of him with a smug smirk on his face. The memory of Delving hitting him comes back to him and Sam glares at Delving. He tries to move but notices he’s strapped down to a chair.   
“Don’t worry. You’re not going anywhere,” Delving says, turning around to finish setting up. “Where’s your partner? You two seem close. Don’t think he’d let you come here by yourself.”  
“Well, you just met us, so you obviously don’t know us very well,” Sam bites out, looking around for a way to escape. Delving snorts.   
“Well, that’s too bad for you,” he says, turning around with a knife in his hand. Sam eyes it, wondering what he’s going to do with it. Delving gives him a smirk before he slices into Sam’s arm. Sam isn’t quick enough to stop the groan of pain and Delving smiles evilly. He brings a bowl over and lets the blood seep into it. When he’s sure he has enough, Delving sets the bowl down on the table next to him. He begins chanting something Sam can’t decipher. He quickly begins to feel tired and he looks over at Delving, recognition hitting him and one thought comes to him. Hurry, Dean.

WWWDWWWDWWWD

Dean gets to the bottom of the stairs and looks around, seeing a hallway. He stealthily walks along the wall, checking in all the rooms, but not finding his brother. As he nears the end of the hall, he hears murmuring. Dean stops just before the door and peers in. Dean feels his heart rate pick up when he sees his brother strapped down in a chair and Delving standing in front of a table, muttering something. Dean takes in everything on the table next to him, including the bloody knife. His eyes check his brother over and he notices the cut on his arm. Quietly, Dean turns the door handle, but finds it’s locked. He mutters a curse and prepares to grab his lock pick set and pick the lock but he stops, realizing the muttering has stopped. Dean looks up in time to see Delving turn around and look right at him, a cocky, evil smirk on his face. Dean watches in horror as Delving begins taking deep breaths and a mist starts seeping from Sam to Delving. No, no, no, no.  
“Delving!” Dean shouts, seeing the pastor take another deep breath and more mist moving from Sam to Delving. Dean rams into the door, but it doesn’t budge. Dean looks over at his brother and sees his visibly getting more tired. Dean shoves his hand into his pocket to grab his lock pick set but doesn’t find it. Searching his other pockets, he realizes he doesn’t have them on him. Cursing, Dean looks up and he feels the panic rise within him. His brother is beginning to turn white. “Sam!”  
Dean slams into the door a few more times but it’s no use, it doesn’t budge. Dean can feel himself getting desperate. He looks inside the room once again, noticing Delving’s smile as he continues to steal Sam’s life before Dean’s very eyes. Sam is starting to look ashened and Dean tries to force down the blind panic from seeing Sam dying and not being able to help him.   
“Sammy!” Dean shouts in terror and rams into the door once again. Dean looks back at his brother and then it hits him. Scowling, Dean raises his arm and uses the butt of the gun and smashes the window in. Delving pauses, looking over at Dean in surprise. Dean doesn’t give him time to recover and aims the gun at Delving, shooting him three times in the chest. Before the pastor hits the floor, Dean has unlocked the door and flung it open. Ignoring the thump of Delving’s body hitting the floor, Dean rushes to Sam’s side, crouching down, and desperately seeks for a pulse. Finding one, albeit faint, Dean lets out a sighs. He takes the time to check Sam over and sees on top of the cut and near death experience, Sam has a lump on his forehead. Dean rests a hand on the side of Sam’s neck and bends down to peer into his eyes.  
“Sammy,” Dean calls out softly, which is the exact opposite he wants to do right now. Dean squeezes Sam’s neck slightly and calls out again, cursing the quiver in his voice. “Sammy. Come on dude, I need you to wake up.”  
Sam stirs awake and Dean watches as his eyes open slightly. Dean can’t help the slight smile pull at his lips, and the relieved exhale. Sam looks at Dean and recognition dawns on him.  
“Dean…?” Sam asks, hoping it’s really his brother and not a trick of his imagination or a side effect of whatever Delving did to him.  
“Yeah, Sammy, it’s me. Come on, let’s get you outta here,” Dean says, already beginning to untie his brother from the chair. Finished, Dean helps his brother stand up and waits for him to get his balance. “You okay to walk?”  
“Yeah, ‘m good,” Sam says, taking a step forward and feeling a strong sense of vertigo. He reaches out to grab onto something for balance but finds a set of strong arms grab him just as his own hands find Dean’s jacket.  
“Whoa, there Sammy. How ‘bout I help you out?” Dean says. Not waiting for an answer, Dean wraps one of Sam’s arms over his shoulder and leads his brother out the door into the hallway.


	4. Chapter 4

Sam slowly comes to, feeling as if he slept for weeks. Flashes of what happened with Delving come to his forefront and he freezes, taking in his surrounds. Everything is quiet except faint snoring coming from next to him. He doesn’t know why but he feels safe wherever he is. Sam slowly opens his eyes, taking in his surroundings and realizing he’s back at the motel. He looks to his right and sees Dean passed out at an awkward angle in a chair. Sam braces himself and pushes himself up to a sitting position, hissing at the pain coming from his left arm. He hears movement to his right and turns to see his older brother stirring awake himself. Dean sits up and looks over seeing Sam sitting up in bed. Dean sits forward quickly and checks his brother over.   
“Sammy? You okay?” Dean asks.  
“Yeah, ‘m good,” Sam replies. Dean gives him a look and Sam sighs, mentally taking stock of his body. Other than the pain in his arm and head he seemed fine. “My head hurts. And my arm. But other than that, I’m fine Dean.”  
Dean studies his little brother before nodding his head.   
“Yeah, well, a hit to the head and a cut on the arm’ll do that,” Dean says. Sam looks down and notices the bandage on his arm. Dean watches him for a minute, rubbing a hand through his hair, trying to figure out what to say to Sam. Or…at least how to say it; he already knew what he wanted to say.  
“Hey…uh…Sammy,” Dean says, looking over at his brother. Sam looks up and over at his brother, seeing the hesitation on his face. Sam furrows his eyebrows in confusion. “I…uh…I just wanted to say sorry.”  
“For what?” Sam asks, even more confused that he previously was.  
“For forgetting you were still here, treating you like I didn’t care,” Dean says, looking at his brother.   
“Dean…” Sam says, seeing the guilt in his brothers’ eyes.  
“No, Sam…just listen,” Dean says, cutting him off. “If I wasn’t so wrapped up in my own grief, I would’ve been more careful. We shouldn’t have split up, it never goes well. But I was so focused on keeping you away that I did it anyway. If I wasn’t so selfish, you wouldn’t have been almost killed. So, I’m sorry for that.”  
“I don’t blame you Dean,” Sam says.  
“I know. But I do,” Dean says, then, takes a deep breath. “Listen, dad’s…dad’s gone. But you’re still here. I still have my little brother, and that’s what matters right now. I won’t lose you too. I won’t let it happen.”  
“It’s going to happen eventually Dean,” Sam says.  
“Yeah, well not while I’m around,” Dean replies. Sam nods his head.  
“Yeah, I know,” he replies, just loud enough for his brother to hear.

**Author's Note:**

> Please review and give me some feedback!


End file.
